of all the things you never explained
by TheAgonyofBlank
Summary: Cara awoke in the middle of the night to a rustling nearby.


Title: of all the things you never explained  
>Fandom: <em>Legend of the Seeker.<br>_Pairing: Cara/Kahlan.  
>Rating: PG.<br>Words: 1450.  
>Disclaimer: You know the drill – I don't own these characters. Title is from Ellie Goulding's "Your Biggest Mistake."<p>

* * *

><p>The first time it happened, Richard was gone.<p>

Cara awoke in the middle of the night to a rustling nearby. She jolted up, and within seconds her hands were reaching for her agiels, ready for an attack.

"Cara."

The quiet voice drifted to her ears, giving her pause.

She lowered her agiels, scowling as she regarded the Mother Confessor. "Oh. It's you."

"I didn't mean to wake you. It's just that—"

Cara looked up sharply, and Kahlan fell silent.

Moments passed, and when the Confessor still didn't speak, Cara moved back to her blankets, sliding under them as she placed her agiels on the ground next to her.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled with the sensation of being watched, but she laid her head down and closed her eyes anyway, listening to the sound of Kahlan pacing – back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

Slowly, she relaxed, but she was always _aware_.

Sleep did not come swiftly that night.

* * *

><p>Dawn came too quickly after that.<p>

Cara picked berries for their morning meal while Kahlan busied herself with putting out the fire.

The day was spent mostly in silence as they journeyed through the forest, passing cliffs and streams and animals but never any people.

Occasionally, when Cara turned to speak to the Mother Confessor, she was surprised to find that Kahlan already had her eyes on her.

The thought unnerved her, and when she raised a curious brow, Kahlan would look away pointedly.

Cara set her lips in a thin line and kept walking.

* * *

><p>Richard did not return the next moon.<p>

Cara's eyes blinked open when she heard the shifting of blankets, the rustling of a dress as the Mother Confessor stood. But unlike the previous night, she did not move. Instead, she remained where she was, keeping her breathing even as she listened.

She could hear Kahlan pacing again, could feel the slight breeze as the Confessor brushed past her.

She didn't know how long it was before she heard Kahlan settle back down, but it was only after the Confessor stopped tossing that Cara allowed herself to drift off into a restless, dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p>The following day was much of the same.<p>

Cara tensed whenever she felt Kahlan's eyes on her, but the Confessor never once addressed her.

She decided to let it go, but it was quickly wearing on her.

They stopped to rest for lunch, and Cara was roasting a rabbit over the fire when she felt Kahlan's gaze on her again.

"What?" she snapped without looking at the Confessor.

Over the crackle of the fire, she heard Kahlan's breath hitch, and – ignoring the strange feeling in her chest – she glanced up in time to see a red flush on the Confessor's cheeks as the other woman averted her eyes.

Women.

It took all of Cara's willpower not to roll her eyes as she went back to minding their lunch.

"Cara," Kahlan's voice was low, quiet. "Is something wrong?"

Cara frowned at the question. "No."

She used a stick to prod at the rabbit, and then turned it over.

If something was wrong, it certainly wasn't with her – she wasn't the one who was up all evening, fretting about someone who was going to be just fine.

Cara looked up just as Kahlan reseated herself next to the Mord'Sith.

"Cara," she tried again, reaching out to place a hand on Cara's, "You know you can—"

Cara shifted away, out of Kahlan's reach.

"Lunch is ready, Confessor."

Nodding towards the rabbit, Cara stood and then took her leave, pretending not to see the hurt that flashed across Kahlan's features at the dismissal.

* * *

><p>It seemed to Cara – much later that evening, on the third night of Richard's absence – that she had no sooner lain down to rest when she heard the familiar rustle of blankets nearby, then the swish of a dress, followed by the crunching of dirt under the Confessor's boots as she resumed her pacing.<p>

Idly, the Mord'Sith wondered how long the Confessor would be up this night.

She remembered the day Richard had left them. She remembered the tight feeling in her chest as she watched the Seeker and the Confessor embrace, and then kiss. There had been something in their kiss – a finality; a _something_ – that made Cara uncomfortable, made her look away. She remembered looking back after they pulled apart, remembered Kahlan's eyes meeting hers, remembered the strange feeling that pooled in her belly at that moment.

She shifted under her blankets, turning so that she was facing in the direction of the Confessor, and slowly opened her eyes.

It was dark – that was no surprise – but the full moon was out, and that, coupled with the firelight, cast Kahlan in an ethereal glow. Cara felt a sudden, strong tug, somewhere deep in her chest. The reaction took her by surprise, and before she could help herself, she had drawn in a deep breath.

Instantly Kahlan froze.

"Cara?"

Cara closed her eyes, berated herself inwardly for such lack of control.

"Kahlan."

As the name left her lips, she could feel Kahlan relax.

It was just her. Just Cara.

"Are you—? Did I—? Did I wake you?"

"I was not asleep."

Silence.

After a while, Cara sat up, the blankets sliding down and pooling around her waist. The night air was biting, and she caught herself wondering if the Mother Confessor needed something warmer. Shaking the thought, she met Kahlan's eyes. "You should sleep."

Kahlan stood where she was, and stared back at Cara.

The silence stretched, punctuated by the occasional pops from the fire.

Then, with a voice so soft that Cara almost missed her words, Kahlan murmured, "I can't sleep."

Cara seemed to consider this.

"You have your daggers," she finally said, as though that settled the matter.

When Kahlan regarded her curiously, Cara narrowed her eyes.

She didn't like to have to explain.

"When I cannot sleep, I like to—" Cara broke off, and reached for her agiels. She relished the tingling pain that ran through her arm, and a ghost of a smile pulled at her lips. "It helps me—" she paused again, "—feel better. Sleep better."

She cleared her throat.

"Maybe, if you sleep with your dagger—" Cara stopped, realizing Kahlan was smiling. She frowned, confused. "What? What's wrong?"

She had only been trying to help.

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong," Kahlan was still smiling. "Thank you, Cara, but that is not what helps me sleep."

Cara blinked, setting her agiels down.

Kahlan approached her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, and Cara stiffened immediately.

If the Confessor noticed her reaction, she didn't show it. Instead she just smiled, moving her blankets so that she would be closer to the fire – and to Cara.

"This is what helps me sleep," she said quietly, though whether she was referring to the close proximity to the fire or to Cara, Cara wasn't sure.

"Good night, Cara."

"Good night, Kahlan."

Kahlan's breathing steadied soon after, and Cara's was soon to follow.

* * *

><p>The next few days passed more easily, though Cara used that word with some reluctance. She never thought that anything with Kahlan was <em>easy<em>.

Everything was fine enough.

Their moods were certainly lighter; Kahlan was much more talkative, and, in kind, Cara was less brusque.

But something had changed.

She felt the difference when their arms inadvertently brushed together, felt the difference when Kahlan put a hand on her shoulder – as she had taken to doing over the past few days.

Cara hadn't felt anything like this before.

Didn't know what it was, didn't know what it could be.

It was strange and disconcerting, and she wished for it to end.

The next time Kahlan reached for her, she moved away as quickly as possible.

* * *

><p>It was the tenth night since Richard had left, and there was still no sign of his return.<p>

"Cara."

Kahlan's voice was loud in the quiet of the night.

Cara rearranged her blankets, turning so that she was face-to-face with Kahlan. She was so close that the Confessor's breath tickled her nose as she spoke.

"Cara, I'm worried for Richard. I'm worried he's in trouble. I'm worried he may never—"

Kahlan fell silent, surprised, as Cara's hand found hers.

She didn't understand what was going on, what had possessed her to do that – but Kahlan seemed comforted by it, and Cara felt her insides warm.

Richard's return was inevitable, but for now, she would have this.

"Sleep," Cara said softly.

And when Kahlan, her breathing heavy, circled her arms around Cara's waist in the middle of the night, Cara didn't pull away.


End file.
